


A Lunar Year

by Azureflowers



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 13:59:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11715807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azureflowers/pseuds/Azureflowers
Summary: "Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass." (after Anton Chekhov)Loosely connected drabbles focusing on Akira and Mishima.





	A Lunar Year

**Author's Note:**

> I found this while archiving the previous work and decided I might as well post it. I have several ideas in different stages of progress for this timeline, we'll see which one I end up completing next. Chronological order may not may not be maintained.
> 
> I'm actually basing this off of a 100 prompts challenge list I wrote myself back in the early 2010s when those were all the rage among writers. I won't restrain myself by _only_ posting things from the list (I want this to be as stress-free as possible), but so far the prompts past me has thought up have been helpful rather than limiting.

“Ok, we’re in!”

“Quiet down, you idiot!”

The team found themselves up on some kind of balcony. Below was a room that rivalled the earlier chapel in gaudiness. Akira’s eyes followed the deep red rose petals endlessly fluttering down on the tiled marble floors and luxurious carpets. On the other side of the room, below a magnificent chandelier, he saw a familiar figure standing in front of what could only be called a throne.

“Oh shit, it’s Kamoshida!” Ryuji completed Akira’s thought process.

“And a ton of soldiers…” Ann chimed in, eyeing the hordes of armoured figures worriedly.

The King Kamoshida was visibly irritated, yelling at his pawns to capture the intruders immediately.

“I bet he’d never imagine we’re in the same room as him,“ Morgana muttered, skipping ahead and gesturing with his paw for the others to follow. “Come on, let’s keep moving…”

They sneaked to the other side rather easily – the room was so full of commotion that no one even thought to look up. Kamoshida continued to grumble.

“Of all fucking useless simpletons… They’re really going to get it, I’m going to make them suffer… Speaking of suffering, where is that eternal loser hiding this time? Go get him!”

“Yes my liege! At once, my liege!”

Morgana and Ann were already prying open the promising door at the opposite end of the throne room when a familiar voice captured Akira’s attention and made him turn around.

“…The royal fool, at your service." 

Ryuji, just about to enter the back room, noticed Akira’s dallying and hissed between his teeth, “Joker! We’ve gotta go before they notice- hold up, is that…”

A small, hunched frame approached the throne. He was wearing colourful, strangely patterned clothes – there were stripes in the shape of circles in various parts of his body, resembling target boards. His entire appearance seemed ridiculous and far removed from any reality, but the face peeking from under the giant hat belonged to a familiar Shujin student, without a doubt.

“Dude, it’s Mishima,” Ryuji whispered next to Akira, “No wonder we didn’t see him with the other volleyball club members in the dungeons…”

“Time for some target practice!” the sweet singsong voice of cognitive Ann echoed in the room as she handed a ball to Kamoshida. The King smirked sadistically and shot a fast ball towards the cowering jester.

Cognitive Mishima yelped as the ball hit him. 

“Direct hit on shoulder, fifty points!” Cognitive Ann cheered and purred as Kamoshida stroked a hand across the small of her back and buttocks. The real Ann, who had also turned back to see what was keeping the boys, curled her upper lip in disgust.

Another shot was fired, hitting the leg (thirty points) and next, the solar plexus (sixty-five points). Finally, a powerful spike found its mark smack dab in the middle of Mishima’s face. It was like a déjà vu from the volleyball rally; cognitive Mishima reeled and fell on his back from the force of the hit. The crowd went crazy, some soldiers jeering at the clown while the others applauded their king. A trumpet fanfare played in the background.

“Waahhh! That’s a bullseye, worth a hundred points! King Kamoshida is the best!" 

At that moment, Akira realised he was staring the pitiful jester right in the eyes – and the other was returning the gaze. His nose was bleeding rather heavily, but he made no effort to stop or wipe the red flow. He simply lay on the floor, looking at the leader of the infiltrators with a tired, resigned expression. It was probably the first time Akira had actual eye contact with Mishima; the boy was always so quick to avert his eyes and keep his gaze down. Now, seeing the apathy and hopelessness in those eyes froze Akira in place. 

“I keep telling you, we can’t help them here! We have to find the treasure, _now_!” The frustration in Morgana’s tone brought Akira back to himself. They were on a mission, and the best thing to do now was to keep going. Reluctantly, he turned his back to the distasteful spectacle and joined the others.

As they left the throne room, Ryuji muttered confusedly,

“He was looking _right at_ us! Shouldn’t he, like, be on Kamoshida’s side here? Why didn’t he say something…?”

“Just be glad he didn’t, or we would’ve been screwed,” Ann huffed. Seeing her cognitive self really put her on edge.

* * *

 

Even after returning to the real world and retreating to his room in the attic, Akira couldn’t get the haunting eyes off his mind. He knew that what he had witnessed was not reality as such, just like Morgana had explained. However, it was not just fiction either. Kamoshida’s twisted view of Ann definitely had its roots in his real world plans, as did the abusive training methods. And then there were the “special training” sessions some members were summoned for…

Akira thought back on how the real Kamoshida had revealed it was Mishima who had leaked rumours about the new transfer student – under Kamoshida’s orders, of course. Akira had not been particularly happy about the fact, but he had not blamed Mishima for doing Kamoshida’s bidding, not really.  There was so much wrong with the coach’s actions that Akira’s ruined reputation was like problem number _five_. He barely knew Kamoshida – unlike Ryuji, whose athletic future had been crushed by the teacher’s narcissism, or Ann, who nearly lost her dearest friend to his sick fantasies…

…or Mishima, who was treated more like a thing than a person in that twisted court…

_Unforgivable._

“You’re awfully quiet,” Morgana remarked, scratching behind his ear with one hind leg, “Care to share what you’re thinking about?”

Akira glanced at the cat and flashed a smile that seemed pleasant but had a bit of a mischievous edge.

“Oh, just thinking if I had any plans for the weekend, but I guess my schedule just happens to have an opening for some ‘special training’… It's about time for that calling card, don't you think?”


End file.
